


By Any Means

by Phoebe_Snow



Series: Perfection Never Looked So Good [45]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Death, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking and Entering, Drama, F/M, Imagine your OTP, Love, Married Couple, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Moral Dilemmas, Sick Character, Theft, Unspecified Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoebe_Snow/pseuds/Phoebe_Snow
Summary: Natasha would risk anything for the man she loved.





	By Any Means

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very different from most fanfics I write and I'm happy that I got the inspiration to step outside of the box and do something with which I'm unfamiliar. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 

Natasha gave her braid a self-conscious tug and looked at her surroundings for the third time. She knew she was being paranoid, but better to be safe than sorry, right? The town was always unbearably quiet at midnight, save for Thor's bar. The Asgardian Tavern stayed open until two am every morning, so the only sounds permeating the air besides crickets came from that establishment.  
  
Moving quickly, she stayed in the shadows as she darted through the street towards her target location: Dr. Bruce Banner's medical practice. Just thinking of the man made her grimace, so she switched her thoughts to someone else.

She mused on her poor Steve, lying in their bed, his skin pale and sweaty and temperature high with fever. His constitution wasn't the best, but even when he caught a cold, he managed to keep from being sick for too long. That was mainly because of the old family recipes that Natasha had brought from her home country.

Living in rough terrain with limited access to medicine and doctors meant that her family had to use plants, herbs, roots, anything the earth provided, as a remedy for ailments. Although she'd moved years later to the United States and had regular examinations in a big city twenty miles away - she despised Bruce and the last thing she'd want was for him to give her check ups - she still used natural cures for some mild things, like the common cold.

Natasha had been married to Steve for little over a year now and they were very happy, but Bruce caused problems for them. He openly flirted with her, praised her accomplishments as if she were his wife and he'd find some reason to talk to her or even touch her.

There was nothing and no one who could stop him. In addition to being a doctor, Bruce was also a self-made millionaire who owned most of the town. Although everyone hated him, they wouldn't dare rise up against him. He was that powerful, but power be damned. If she couldn't live peacefully there, she could always leave.

Two weeks ago, Natasha suggested to Steve that they move two states away to where her cousin, Wanda Maximoff, lived. She wrote her cousin often and in her letters, she'd expressed a yearning to be reunited with her family. Steve understood how his wife felt and he agreed that, as much as he loved where they lived now, Bruce made it too difficult. They needed to break free and start fresh.

Natasha had cried and hugged him, happy that they were taking charge of their destiny. Sadly, before they could get in the process of packing, Steve was struck by a fever. Natasha sent for their doctor and during his house call, they learned that Steve had caught a rare virus. There was one known cure, but very few doctors possessed it. Unfortunately, the one physician close enough with access to the medicine was Bruce.

It had filled her with humiliation, but Natasha went to Bruce's practice the next morning. The cure was extremely expensive and she'd hoped that he might help her, but that was a foolish assumption. Not only did Bruce refuse to lower the price of the medicine so she could afford it, he laughed in her face when she'd asked.

She suspected that his reason for turning her away was a form of strategy. She sensed that he refused to sell her the medicine in the hope that Steve would die from his fever. Then he could swoop in to save her and perhaps, she'd be so broken hearted from losing her husband that she'd even marry him. She scoffed to herself. It was only a theory, but knowing how manipulative and troublesome Bruce was, Natasha wouldn't put it past him to go that far.

She focused on Steve again, picturing his loving face. Memories of their first meeting came back in her mind. It was eight years ago when she came to America. She'd always wanted to travel and after the life she led in Russia, she needed to escape.

The journey had been arduous and more than once, she questioned whether she'd made the right decision. But once she stepped onto land, she felt a surge of confidence rush through her being. This was worth it, she thought to herself.

After she gained citizenship, she moved to the Midwest, settling in Ohio. She checked into a hotel and promptly went outside for a stroll to get familiar with her new home. She'd been so preoccupied taking in her surroundings that she ran into Steve as he walked out of the town's general store.

He tried to stop her descent, but they both ended up falling in an undignified heap on the ground. It was only after they stood upright again in front of each other and exchanging introductions that she became aware of how beautiful his blue eyes were. When it was clear that she was new in town, Steve shyly offered to show her around. She accepted his offer and they had become inseparable from that moment on.

Being his friend gave Natasha an insight into his world and his talents. For instance, she learned that Steve had a tendency to get sick often so he was unable to do ordinary work, but he had been blessed with artistic hands. He drew amazing portraits of people and his landscape drawings were a sight to behold too. That was how he made a living, but he was also good at creating blueprints and building designs. He was a valued member of the community.

Steve fit the bill of a sensitive artist perfectly because he cared about the people he lived around. He was the kind of man who looked after his friends and gave them guidance, he loved animals and was not a fan of bullies - with very good reason.

His childhood had not been a happy one. He suffered abuse at the hands of his own father from the early age of six. This was compounded by mistreatment from children on the school playground. Steve's parents had emigrated to America from Ireland a year before he was born so his voice was unlike theirs. He had no accent, but that didn't stop the bigger kids at school from picking on him.

One day, Steve began to fight back. He still got beat up a lot, but he gained a reputation for being a scrapper. In time, word was spread around the school that he no longer allowed people to mistreat him. Natasha found that she admired him more than ever after he finished telling her his story. She wished she could've been there to see little Steve stand up for himself. Things like that took a lot of courage.

Another reason she held him dear to her heart was the fact that he treated her with respect and dignity, regardless of where she came from. Some of the townspeople had been distant and cautious with her because they'd never met a Russian and considered her an oddity in their community. In time, however, they came to their senses and realised that there was nothing strange or peculiar about her.

Sure, her accent was different than what they were used to, but she was in America because she wanted a better life just like them. As a result, Natasha had developed several friendships with the people, excluding Bruce, of course.

Once she reached the practice, she pulled out her lock pick and in less than ten seconds, she was inside. The building was a bit cool, which wasn't a surprise given how chilly the weather was outside. Natasha closed the door and locked it before turning on her flashlight and walking forward.

She remembered that Bruce kept his more expensive medicines in the white cupboard behind the counter. It was locked, but that's why she had her lock pick. Her fingers worked deftly as she twisted the tiny pieces of metal inside the keyhole. It took her a minute to open the cupboard, likely because it was on the old side and Bruce hadn't replaced it yet.

Shining the flashlight in the cupboard, Natasha's eyes scanned each pill bottle carefully until she found the one she was looking for. She dropped the bottle and its twin into her bag. She almost closed the cupboard door, but stopped herself. Bruce may suspect that she'd stolen his medicine if she just took the bottles she needed for Steve.

Tapping her fingers on the wood, she thought briefly and opened the cupboard door again and dumped all of the pill bottles in her bag. Then she jimmied the cash register open and grabbed a large amount of bills. She also knocked some things around in the building, giving the impression that it was an ordinary burglary. Since everyone knew Bruce kept his expensive medicine in the cupboard, it would make sense that an unscrupulous citizen would steal some and sell it in another town. It's been done before and why should their town be any different? Especially since Bruce had no friends in the community.

"It's a little late for a social visit, don't you think?"

Natasha startled and looked behind her, shining the flashlight at none other than Bruce. The light in the back storage room shone bright, yellow beams spilling into the front. Her throat tightened and she instinctively backed up, feeling like a cornered animal.

He glanced at the bag she held and snorted. "So you've decided to embark on a life of crime? No doubt those are the pills you need to save your precious Steve. What a shame. Thievery doesn't suit you, Natasha."

"You of all people have _no_ right to say what does or doesn't suit me, you bastard. If you had just given me the medicine, I wouldn't have had to resort to stealing it."

"Now _you're_ blaming _me_ for putting you into this foolish predicament? That's hilarious. You should take responsibility for your troubles. If you hadn't married Steve, you wouldn't be suffering as he lies sick with fever. You knew that his constitution wasn't the best, but you chose to marry him with no regard for the consequences."

"Consequences?"

Bruce grinned maliciously and edged closer. "Natural selection. Steve is weak, talented with a wonderful gift of drawing, I do admit, but his contribution to mankind will never be impactful. He's a blot on the pages of history, soon to be forgotten as the roads of far greater men will be paved for the future."

Natasha blinked, her mouth open in shock. She always knew that Bruce considered himself to be better than everyone else, but this was absurd. "You could personally cure every disease known to man and Steve would **still** be worth a million of you!"

Shrugging, he replied, "I guess we'll have to disagree on that because I don't want to talk about your husband anymore. Even though you've committed a crime tonight and I should report you to the authorities, I'm willing to let it slide."

She eyed him suspiciously. "I don't believe you."

"On the contrary, I'm very serious. I will let you take the medicine and run home to your sick little husband and nurse him back to health...on one condition." He came closer until he was inches away from her face. The look in his eyes made her shiver.

"And what is that?"

"You must allow me to bed you."

 _"What?!"_ She staggered a few steps away, shuddering as chills rushed through her body.

"It's not an unreasonable request and I'm not asking for your love and adoration, just for a taste of the flesh, _your_ flesh. I think I deserve that much considering how you chose him over me." The lascivious expression in his eyes as he looked her up and down frightened her. Bruce reached out to graze her cheek, but she pushed his hand away.

"I'd rather die than let you touch me!"

His gaze hardened and he reached out again, snatching her wrist and holding it in his steely hand. She fought him, but she couldn't get loose. He tore her bag from her shoulder and shoved her towards the door.

"Correction. You'll watch _Steve_ die and for your sake, I hope it's slow and painful."

Natasha shrieked in rage and threw herself at him, slapping him as hard as she could. He yelped in pain and responded in kind, almost knocking her to the ground, but she caught herself and kicked him in the shin. There was a loud snap and he faltered, trying to keep balance with his injured leg.

She grabbed at her bag, tugging it so hard that Bruce lost his grip. He stumbled to the side and fell face first into a table that showcased a few jars of healing ointment he'd been selling. The table broke from his weight and he crashed to the ground. He didn't move. Natasha reluctantly stood over him and shook his body harshly, but he didn't respond. She felt his pulse and her eyes widened. He was dead.

"Oh, my God..."

A knot formed in her throat and she staggered backwards. No, no, no, how could this be? She loathed Bruce with all her heart, but she never wanted him to be killed. She couldn't stay here. Someone was bound to find his body and if she was spotted standing over him...

Natasha picked up her flashlight and turned it off before hurrying to the front door and checking the streets. They were just as empty as they'd been when she broke into the practice. Without hesitation, she exited the building and stealthily made her way back to the cottage she and Steve owned.

The moon gave off enough light to help her see her way back home. Upon reaching her destination, she went behind the house a few yards away and entered the shed, grabbed a shovel and came back out, digging a hole big enough to bury all of the unnecessary bottles she'd stolen from the practice. Despite her shaking hand, she covered the hole until it looked like it'd never been disturbed. 

Natasha decided to go in the cottage and hide the money under her side of the bed. Steve wouldn't find it there. She did it as quickly and quietly as she could to keep from accidentally waking her husband. Then she got to her feet, walking to the wardrobe to take out a change of clothes. She was a bit dirty and in need of a good bath.

Once she finished cleaning herself off, she donned her nightdress, she took the two pill bottles for Steve out of her bag and set them on the nightstand. There was a canister of water and two glasses on the surface in case either of them woke up thirsty. She turned on the lamp on the nightstand and poured water into a glass, looking the instructions on the label of the pill bottle. After reading it carefully, she shook out two pills and gently shook Steve.

"Darling?"

He groaned and twisted around a bit before turning in her direction and opening his eyes. "Nat? Hey, I was calling you a minute ago. Where were you?"

"I went out for a walk. The moon's full tonight and I needed to clear my head." She brushed his cheek and he smiled, leaning into her touch. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"I wasn't worried, just wondering where you went off to. Usually when you go out this late, it's to get a drink from Thor's place."

"Mm, not this tonight. You know how rowdy they get on Saturdays. I'd be better off having a drink here." Her eyes glanced at the pills. "Can you sit up? I want you to take something. It'll help with the fever."

Steve slowly sat up and let out a tired chuckle. "Don't tell me this is some more of that bitter tea you always make me drink."

"Oh, hush. There's nothing wrong with that tea and you know it. And to answer your question, no. This isn't tea. It's water and a couple of pills you need to take."

"Compared to the other hundreds I take every day?"

Natasha playfully swatted his shoulder and held up the pills in one hand with the glass of water in her other. "Open up."

She set one pill on his tongue, fed him the water, allowing him to drink it slowly in a few mouthfuls and repeated this with the second pill until he emptied the glass.

"Alright. I've taken your poison. Now get in here with me."

She turned off the lamp and climbed into the bed, settling herself next to Steve. His arms went around her and he held her close, kissing her on the lips. It was a soft, lingering kiss that made Natasha sigh in contentment.

Briefly, her thoughts went to Bruce's dead body on the floor of his practice. The sheriff and his deputies would no doubt be called in the morning and everyone would suspect that he had a fight with someone. The upside to this is that he had no family and no friends. Even the people he paid off despised him. His death would undoubtedly be ruled as an accident - and honestly, the entire town would probably be glad that he's no longer be a part of their lives - and the police may not bother to investigate further.

Still, she knew that image of Bruce on the ground would haunt her for a long time, probably the rest of her life. But when she focused on the man in her arms, her husband, the one person she loved above all others and could never live without, she knew that it was worth it to save him.

The moon shone through the window, casting an ethereal glow on Steve's face. His eyelids were drooped and his breathing began to slow. He'd been so still that she thought he was asleep, but then he ran his fingers down her arm and whispered in her ear, "I love you."

Tears slid down her cheeks as she replied, "And I love you."

It was _worth_ it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudo are snickerdoodles! :D


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